Caught In Friendly Fire
by RueThisDay
Summary: In today's world, they're friends. But not in Panem. In Panem, they're fighting to the death... (For Leven, with Leven's friends as characters)
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

I don't remember much about the Dark Days; I was seven when they ended. However, I do remember every Hunger Games after that, from the reluctantly-started but viciously-ended first Games to the latest, the tenth Games. There are rumours that the tributes from District Two have trained for the Games for the past five years. They're the most prepared anyway, I guess, what with all that stone mining.

Life in my district, District Ten, is hard, so most people take out tesserae, including me. At seventeen, my friends and I all discussed how we would try to win is we got reaped and I remember every detail of the conversation; I have a plan.

Now that I'm eighteen, that plan is coming in handy.

As the youngest of five, I didn't take tesserae until I was sixteen; one of my older siblings always took it for me before then. When they stopped, though, I suddenly had six extra Reaping slips a year with my name on to deal with from my three older sisters, an older brother and my parents. This year, I had a total of eighteen slips with my name on. Not too bad for a girl my age - when my oldest sister, Aimee, was eighteen, she had thirty-seven – but obviously too many.

I mean, here I am, on a metal plate with forty-five seconds to go before the eleventh annual Hunger Games begin.

Yeah, I'm a tribute. Save the congratulations for my Victory parade.

Ha, yeah right. Funeral more like.

_Focus, Frances._

Oh yeah. I'm meant to be looking for stuff to get from the Cornucopia.

My eyes wander to the mouth, where the pile is. There's nothing on the outskirts this year, only at the very centre.

And it's pretty weird stuff. It looks as though someone emptied a load of random junk into the golden horn and said "that'll do," before walking off to watch the Reap-ings. I hardly even recognise half the stuff. For example, I can see a huge metal hoop with spikes on it. What's that meant to be? A death hula-hoop? And evil harness? Not that there are any horses around…

_Focus!_

I glance around. We're on an island, quite low to the water, with a bridge on one side leading to another island, slightly taller than this one. That island is connected to another, which is connected to another. I count twelve in all, including this one. They form a sort of spiral starting where we are now and each island is slightly thinner than the last.

_Uh oh, ten seconds left._

_Nine, eight, seven, six, five…_

I get ready to run into the centre.

…_Three, two, one…_

_Bong!_

At the sound of the gong, I sprint forwards as fast as I can. Around me, other tributes do the same. Well, some. I see a few running off across the bridge. Let's see, there's the District Three pair – a brother and sister for first time ever, by the names of Talor and Alek – crossing the bridge with a few supplies, and that's-

I duck as an arrow flies over my head, missing the boy in front of me by inches and hitting the boy behind me square in the chest. The thrower – Rachel of District Two – steps back, cursing to herself. Why? She hit someone, didn't she? Maybe she was aiming for the boy in front. Strange if she was; he's from her district.

_Frances! Cornucopia!_

Oh yeah, I need supplies.

Quickly, I look through the piled things. Our arena outfits come with a backpack (Which is good, because I don't see one here) so I start shoving anything useful-looking into it: a bladed fan (I don't intend to kill anyone yet, but just in case...), an unlabeled metal pot with a slight leak in one corner, a jar of transparent liquid with a cloth over the top (It reminds me of the stuff we use at home on the farm to knock out cows before we kill them. What was it called? Chloroform!), another metal pot (With dried fruit in), a tin with no label, and a sachet of red liquid.

My fingers are just reaching for another tin when the cannons go off. Eight shots.

"Hey!" calls a voice. Carefully, I turn around. The tributes from One, Two and Four stand together. This happened last year as well; there seems to be some connection between those districts, possibly previous victors getting to know each other a bit. Most tributes from my District tend to avoid this alliance – like I said, District Two are said to have trained their tributes, despite it being illegal.

The girl from One leans on her district partner's shoulder, drawling, "well, Tad, can I kill her?"

Tad shakes her off and squares his muscular shoulders. "Yeah, ok," he mutters.

Her malicious eyes shine and she pulls a whip from her belt. "Thanks, Hun'." She tosses her red dreadlocks over her shoulder and steps forward.

"Wait!" I cry. _Don't sound desperate, sound confident._ I lower my pitch. "I want to ally with you."

"What?!" asks the boy from Two. "You are kidding, right?"

Tad steps forward and pushes the redhead girl aside. "Rachel, Robert," he says, "search the Cornucopia for any good stuff." At this, the pair from Two moves away. "Riana, Drew, you too. Alexx, stay with me."

As the tributes from Four join those from Two looking through the piles, Tad does business with me. Alexx, the redhead from his district, paces around me, cracking her whip.

"So," starts Tad, slowly. "You want to ally."

"Yes," I state, trying to sound like I know what I'm doing.

"Oh, Tad," whines Alexx. "Please can I just kill her? Please?"

"Shut up. Wait for us to talk, and then we'll see, won't we?" Tad turns back to me. "Do you have a name?"

"I'm Frances Grey of District Ten," I declare. Tad looks at me sceptically, eyeing my blue eyes, short blonde hair and horrible baby face. "And I'm eighteen." I add. He looks even more sceptical.

Alexx pokes her head between mine and Tad's. "Eighteen? Seriously?"

"Yeah, we're all eighteen this year," I say.

"Really? I never noticed."

"We are."

"Oh." She goes back to her pacing.

Tad opens his mouth like he's about to say something, but is interrupted by the _boom_ of a cannon. A boy's scream echoes through the air, making the entire group look up.

"Second isle," I mutter. "Bet it's the pair from Three."

"How do you know?" asks Tad.

"That's where the sound came from." In Ten, we have to know where the sound is so we can find and see to the animal.

"Ok, let's go!" yells Tad. "My kill!"

"No, mine!" hisses Alexx, running after him.

Rachel of Two stands next to me. "Eager, isn't she?" she says, watching Alexx stumble on the bridge. "Too eager."

I look at her. She looks at me and tightens her blonde ponytail. "I'm Rachel," she says, offering her hand.

"Frances," I say, offering mine.

"You coming?"

"Ok…"

But she doesn't hear me; she's too busy running over to the rope bridge. So I follow.

The second island is a forest of pine trees. In the centre, Tad is ordering the rest of the group about, setting up a camp. The girl from four is missing – Riana, I think her name was.

_Boom!_

Riana appears a moment later. "Got him." She smirks. "The little wimp. His sister was already dead."

"Riana? Go grab some wood!" yells Tad from the other end of the camp, and she walks off again.

Suddenly, a thought occurs to me: what if his sister wasn't dead? I tell Rachel what I'm doing – checking the bodies – and run off.

As soon as I see them, I know the brother and sister from District Three are dead. Talor – the sister – because her eyes are staring at nothing in the creepiest way imaginable, and Alek because he has a huge hole in his chest. Talor has red liquid coating her lips, not dry yet, and a sachet of the stuff in each hand. I have one just like it in my bag. I take her unopened one and stash it in the same place.

But what is it? Did it kill her? There are no wounds on her apart from a scratch down one cheek and a bruise or two on her arms, so it must've done. The red liquid is a poison.

_Snap!_

I jump at the sound. Reaching for the serrated fan-like object in my belt, I pivot slowly on my heels, looking for an attacker. Nothing presents itself.

_Time to go back to camp_, I think and head off, thinking nothing more of the noise. Behind me, I can just make out a setting red sun – dusk is falling fast.

When I get back, the anthem plays and the faces are shown. The pair from Three is first, smiling down at us from the sky.

"I got that one!" Alexx calls as the face of the boy from five, Trevor, appears, and then again as the girl from Six's face is shown. Her name was Jalen, apparently. Although the Gamemakers show names this year, I think it will be the last time.

"Hang on," says Robert of Two as Bo Sun of Six is followed by males from Eight (Bryan) and Nine (Chris). "Didn't that boy from Five want to ally with us?"

"Yeah, but I killed him," boasts Alexx as the pair from District Eleven (Lizzie and Forrest) are shown. "I thought he would be too weak for our standards."

The girl from Twelve, Hannah Lusk, is shown, and then the anthem fades out.

"Did we kill all of them?" asks Rachel.

"I got two!" calls Alexx. "It was great."

"Ok, so that's Five male and Six female… Is anyone writing this down?" Tad asks.

"On it!" I call, and start writing out what they say in the dirt.

"Well?" asks Tad when we've finished. "Did we get them all?"

"Apart from Talor of Three, yeah."

"Good," Tad says, smugly, and we go off to get ready for sleep.

Robert (Of Two) and I are put on watch. For while we sit in silence until, when he's sure we're all alone, Robert comes closer to me and whispers, "do you trust Tad?"

I look at him suspiciously.

"Would you trust him with your life, I mean."

I shake my head.

"Well, Drew, Riana, Alexx and I were thinking we should get rid of him. He's taken over too much. This should be a democracy, not a band of Tad's followers. So, are you with me?"

I hesitate just long enough for him to pull out a deadly blade with no handle.

"I said," he hisses. "Are you with me?"

I look him in the eye. "Of course."

* * *

**A/N: The first chapter of Leven's birthday fic/commission! Yay!**

**Two things: firstly, a massive "happy birthday!" to leven. Secondly, thank you so, so much for even reading this. You have no idea how grateful I am.**

**Oh, and thirdly, updates will hopefully be weekly, due to the length of the chapters. There will be 14 chapters in all, featuring all the characters found in the list on my profile.**

**I'll see you next week! :D**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Only two days late posting, yay? I really am so sorry, and here's your chapter.**

* * *

**Chapter 2**

Around dawn, I wake up to see Riana's face right in front of me.

"I want to give up!" she whispers. "I don't think I can do this killing any more. I don't want to murder anyone else."

Carefully, I push her off me and look around. Tad is sitting by the fire. He is the only person awake apart from Riana and me; he took over on watch at what we reckoned was midnight.

"Don't give up," I whisper back. "We need you in our plan to kill Tad."

She looks at me like I'm crazy.

"Are you kidding?" she hisses. "I'm never going to give up, because I'm going to win! Shut up weirdo, and go back to sleep."

I roll over, baffled. What was she on about? One second she's going suicidal, the next she's a vicious... thing. I've never seen anything like it!

Well, that's not true.

When I was very little, just before the Dark Days began, my oldest sister, Aimee, brought home a cat. To start with, it was the sweetest thing, and would sit on her lap for hours on end, allowing itself to be stroked.

But then my mother found out. She and my sister – who was only nine at the time – had a huge row about it. And that was when the cat struck.

I don't actually remember the whole thing, only the cat on my sister's lap and the clawed mess that was left of my sister afterwards. She still has the scars.

That was then, this is now, and I'm still in the arena, somehow falling asleep at some point.

I am woken by a cannon shot and lots of shouting. It takes me a few seconds to figure out what is being yelled.

"Her body was a mutilated mess!" yells Tad. "How could I have done that?!"

"Exactly!" says Robert. "He doesn't have the tools."

Hang on, what?! Robert is defending Tad? I pinch myself, hard, and draw blood. Yep, it's real.

But why?

"Shut up, Robert!" screams Rachel. "You're telling lies! That mess could've been made by anything!"

"QUIET!" roars Drew, who has just woken up. "Can one of you bickering idiots tell me what's going on?"

"Yes," snarls Alexx. "This morning, Riana was killed. Her body was found over there by Tad – who was on guard. It is a mutilated mess."

"So?"

"So we can't trust Tad to be our leader if all he's going to do is kill us and mutilate our bodies overnight! Or are you too thick to see that?!"

"But it wasn't me!" cries Tad. "Look, whoever did this will still be here, waiting for the next of us. Divide and conquer, they say, and we're being divided and are ready to be conquered!"

Everyone stares blankly.

"Who's with me?" asks Tad, his voice edging towards desperate or hysterical or both.

No-one talks or moves. Even Robert has given up his false opinion.

After a few ever-lasting seconds of silence, Alexx suddenly lashes her whip at Tad, creating a gash across his chest.

_Divide and conquer._ The words spin around in my mind, bringing forward but not quite revealing a long-lost memory.

_Divide and conquer._

Alexx's sudden attack starts a sort of free-for-all at Tad within the group. _Divide and conquer. _Metal flashes. Blood spills. _Divide and conquer, divide and conquer._

Tad's tattered body lands on the ground with a _boom!_ Oh no, that's the cannon. Blood pours from his wounds, staining the ground a vivid red.

My breaths come short and fast. _Divide and conquer, divide and conquer, divide and conquer…_

The images flicker through my mind like birds taking flight; my mother arguing with Aimee, my oldest sister. _Divide and conquer. _The world around me going up in flames. _Divide and conquer, divide and conquer._ Screams ringing out through the house, through the district. _Divide and conquer, divide and conquer, divide and conquer._

"Frances!" Rachel's voice floats into my consciousness. "Frances! Frances!"

My eyes jerk open.

"What?" I ask.

"Are you ok?"

_No._ "Yeah, I'm fine."

I breathe deeply and wipe the cold sweat from my face.

And then I throw up.

I haven't been sick for ten years. That's a long time. And in ten years, I've forgotten how awful it is, especially when there's nothing in your stomach.

"Hey, calm down, you little liar. Come on now, lie down."

I do exactly as Rachel says and I'm asleep in seconds.

* * *

"Andrew?" says Sarah, my amazing girlfriend.

"Yeah?" I reply.

"When are we moving?"

"Tomorrow."

We're currently on the sixth island, a pretty wood of beech trees. If I had some paper, I would draw it, but I don't.

We've been here since day one, and we're getting up and moving again tomorrow.

Moving will be quite a big operation, as I have all my traps to transport, but I know we can't just stay in the same place or we'll get targeted by the Gamemakers.

That happened a couple of years ago, actually. A tribute tried to just live in a hole, but she got chased out by mutts. It was awful.

Sarah sighs and leans her head onto my lap. I smile down at her and fiddle with her wavy blonde hair. She's so beautiful. She deserves so much more than I can give her. That's why I'm protecting her; we're going to make it to the last two and then she can win and go home to her family in District Seven. My family doesn't need me, but her family does.

I _am _willing to give my life for her.

* * *

When I wake up, the camp is in chaos. Not a panicked chaos, more of a friendly chaos, but chaos all the same. It's amazing that only four people could make such a mess.

It appears that someone found some wine.

Alexx and Drew have disappeared into our tent along with a couple of bottles; Robert is actually talking to Rachel and Rachel is laughing a lot.

Basically, everyone's drunk.

Great.

Suddenly, I notice something: a pool of water by the side of our camp. As I stare, it grows, and many more pools of water appear and grow with it.

We're being flooded.

"Robert!" I yell. "Robert, the water!"

"Huh?" he says, his speech slightly slurred. "What vater? I shee no vater!"

"But…" I give up. He's no use. I'm on my own here.

I try to gather as much of our stuff as possible and shove it into various bags that are lying around. When I'm done, I call to Rachel.

"Hey, Rachel!"

"What?!" Her voice is normal; she's not actually too bad for drunken-ness.

"We need to go!"

"Why?" she moans, slumping.

"Because we're going to drown!"

This wakes her up. She opens the tent, wide.

"Hey, Lovebirds, get yourself dressed! We need this tent and shleeping, I mean sleeping bag!"

When they don't move, she pulls them out and collapses the tent. I grab Robert and some bags and head for the bridge.

"Go!" I hiss, pushing Robert across. "Hurry up!"

He frowns at me moodily, but keeps moving. When we reach the other side, I load him down with bags.

"Stay here," I say, and start to go back for the others.

"Why should I do vat you shay?!" Robert demands sleepily. "I'm the bosh! I shay… Go back!"

"Shut up or drown," I say, and run off to help Rachel, who is having trouble with an over-aggressive Alexx.

"No!" Alexx shrieks. "Give me back my tent!"

"Alexx!" Rachel hisses. "Alexx, we have to go!"

"But, Rachel, I have a whip and-!"

Luckily for Rachel, a disorientated Drew chooses this moment to barrel into Alexx.

"Hey, honey…" he slurs, lifting her up and taking her across the bridge. "Let'sh leave theesh idiotsh."

Rachel sighs, grabbing a bag and sauntering over the bridge, giggling quietly. I follow, running from the rising water.

Around halfway across, Rachel staggers over and grasps at the rope holding the bridge up. Screaming, she grabs hold of the rope just in time, while letting go of the two bags she was carrying.

_Push her off, Frances!_

I mentally recoil at the thought. That would be so evil! She's hanging from the edge of a bridge!

_She's a competitor, out for your blood. Kill her while you can!_

No!

I look down. Subconsciously, I have reached for my serrated fan. Part of me – the part I knew existed before now – is horrified. I grab Rachel's hand and pull her up before I can change my mind or do anything awful like chopping her fingers off. We cross the bridge normally from there.

When we reach the fifth island from the middle, we make camp. As I am most rested of the group, I guard again, this time with Rachel, who is now sober, if a little hung over. She dropped the tent, so the others are sleeping around the fire.

Along with the tent, we lost at least half of our stuff, meaning we only have a few things: sixteen unlabeled tins, four potatoes in foil, and four buns. All of which will divide perfectly between the group if one of us were dead.

"We need to go hunting tomorrow," I mutter to Rachel. "We're low on supplies."

But Rachel is asleep.

So I sit alone and survey the surroundings.

We are on a circular field of tall, green grass. As I stand and walk to the edge, I notice that there are two islands to my left, both slightly bigger than this one. There should be four, but the other two have sunk. To my right lie seven islands, all slightly smaller than the last.

_The other two have sunk._

No. No, they didn't sink; they were claimed by the sea.

The sea which rises every day to claim another island, forcing the remaining tributes onto smaller and smaller islands!

I stare at it all, gobsmacked, until a faint _rustle_ interrupts my revelation. I turn and watch in speechless horror as a hand reaches out of the grass and grabs four of my tins, then disappears again, only to reappear on the other side of the camp to snatch a mace from Robert's side. Then two eyes appear next to where the hand disappeared from and stare at me in fright, like a calf before the axe. A flash of brown hair and it's all gone.

Leaving me to wonder who – or what – it was.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

She's distracting me. That annoyingly pretty girl is distracting me. All she's doing is sitting at the side of the Gamemaking Centre's entrance, twirling her pink and blue hair around her perfectly-manicured finger while tapping at her portable touch-screen device with the other hand.

It's driving me mad.

When did she turn up? It seems like she's been here in the Gamemaking Centre forever, twirling that perfect hair around that stunning finger. I wonder if she has a boyfriend…

"Hey, Adrastus!" I turn at the sound of my name.

"What?"

"Bring the sun up, will you?"

"On it!"

That was Pia, my girlfriend – no, fiancé. We met in this very room, six years ago. I was new here, and she was showing me around. Now, I can't remember anything of what she said, only the way she walked, how her pink eyes lit up when she got an idea, her lips when she called to someone across the room. It took me a year to build up the confidence to ask her out, and her around half a second to say yes.

After five years of dating, I asked her to marry me. It took even less time for her to agree this time – she was nodding and crying before I even finished asking her the question!

I love her; I know I do, with all my heart. Our wedding is I just over a week.

So why is this other girl distracting me?!

She only arrived yesterday, at noon, with my boss, Dante Tyler. No explanation was given as to her presence, but rumour has it that Dante is splitting up with his wife and she left him the child. A lot of suggestions as to her name were passed about, too. Most say Sabella, but I think that's rather far-fetched, and agree with the idea of Pepita being her name. We're probably all wrong, but I'm too busy working to find out.

After a few minutes, I feel a tap on my shoulder and spin, my fists drawn into my chest. A look of shock appears on the face of my 'attacker' – Dante Tyler's daughter. She laughs a high-pitched squeak of a laugh and I mutter an apology.

"It's ok," she giggles, fiddling in the sparkly purple bag that hangs over her shoulder. The bag's colour matches her eyes, but not the rest of her outfit. My eyes follow her hands as she fishes out a pot of green lip gloss and re-does her already-perfect lips.

"So… Whatcha doin'?" she drawls, replacing the lip gloss back in her bag.

"I'm, um, controlling the weather," I stutter.

A mischievous grin appears on her face.

"Can I have a go?"

* * *

The thunderstorm appears out of nowhere, taking us all by surprise. Rachel moans and complains about her hair… And it stops. I stare at her, open-mouthed. She gives me a grin.

"Yeah, 'cause I can control the weather, see?" She snaps her fingers and the rain pours down, until she snaps again and it stops. She continues to do this, for a few minutes, becoming more and more confused s to why this 'power' is working until it doesn't. She slumps and frowns while I let out my breath. I hate storms.

By now the sun is up for good and Robert is getting up. Alexx and Drew are curled in each other's arms, fast asleep. Personally, I don't want to wake them. Hung-over Alexx and Drew are not going to be pretty sights.

Robert checks our supplies and winces.

"This is stupid," he groans. "We had more than this yesterday! Have you been feasting overnight, girls?"

Rachel laughs the comment off and points to her waist. "Do you think I'd look like this if I'd been feasting overnight?"

Robert scowls. "Shut up."

"We need to go hunting," I say, interrupting the pair. "Rachel and I can go."

Robert thinks about this. "No, I'll go with Rachel; you'll be more use here."

He does have a point, so I agree and send them off to the next island along – a thick wood.

An hour later, a cannon fires. Drew lifts his head and looks around, but Alexx pulls him back down. I try not to worry about Rachel, and think of home to take my mind off it.

When I picture home, I picture our house before the Dark Days, when it still existed and we were a happy family together. I try not to my family's current home: a room in a big farmhouse-turned-refugee-shelter that we share with two other families. Being in such a tight space with my four siblings all the time almost tears our family apart daily. I'm still not sure how we are kept together.

My family is entirely legal adults now. Aimee is the oldest sister at twenty-five. She's also the prettiest. And tallest, and strongest. Even my parents look up to her. During the Dark Days, she fought for District Ten on the front line. She doesn't wear short-sleeved T-shirts anymore because of the burns and scars up and down her arms and she only shows them to us when she's in a really good mood or drunk.

The next oldest is Kendra, at twenty-three. She's the quiet, retiring one who never argues and barley talks, just sits and watches us with her big, round eyes brimming with tears at the sight of us tearing each other's throats out. It's amazing how different she is to Aimee, really.

Olivia, the third daughter, is different again. She's giggly and chatty and girly and annoying. Aimee almost threw her out once for talking about how cute the young Master of Ceremonies, Caesar Flickerman, is. Liv is twenty now and Caesar is seventeen, but she says that doesn't matter. Aimee doesn't care, and she said that is Olivia is going to be an adoring fan of a Capitolite, Aimee would make her change her name.

Liv shut up after that.

Peter is the only boy of the family apart from Dad. He is currently eighteen – the same age as me – but he turns nineteen in a few days (Whereas I turned eighteen a few weeks ago). Peter is really, really smart, but only tells me about his amazing thoughts. I sometimes think that he should be in Three, not Ten, but he says that he would never be able to move away from all of us.

This isn't true.

Peter and Aimee are the ones who start most of the arguments. They often end with Peter yelling that he hates us all and Aimee yelling that she hates him, too.

It happens all too often.

Rachel appears to bring me back to now, carrying Robert's mace and four rabbits. A scowl is carved onto her face.

"Robert's dead," she snarls, flopping herself down by the fire and throwing the rabbits at my feet.

"Who killed him?" I ask.

"Me," she growls.

"Ok." There is a long pause. "Can I ask why?"

"Yes."

Another pause.

"Why?" I ask.

She sniffs and starts to build up the fire.

"Why?" I ask again. The twig between her fingers snaps.

"He told me something," Rachel says in a measured tone. "Something about his brother."

"What?"

Another twig snaps between her fingers.

"He told me that he killed his brother. That Robert, aged twelve, murdered his own brother."

"So you killed him. Right…"

"His brother was sixteen at the time, as were my sisters. His brother was my sister's boyfriend."

I don't reply.

"My sister went mad with grief over that boy's death. She was a wonderful person, ready to volunteer and bring us pride. But then she couldn't, all because Robert broke her.

"I had to kill him when he told me."

"I understand," I whisper.

We sit in silence while she tends the fire and I gut the rabbits.

There's something about gutting animals that calms me down. I have no idea what, or why, but it does. Maybe it's because I used to watch my mother do it when I was little, back when the world was happy and peaceful. Now I do it to get away from my family when there's and argument, often with Kendra.

I've gutted a lot of animals. You could call me an expert.

Or you could call me a weirdo.

Alexx gets up and yawns, her red dreadlocks tumbling down around one side of her face in a way that looks not dissimilar to a haystack.

"Afternoon," mutters Rachel. Alexx scowls.

"Want some food?" I ask, and notice that Drew sits up at this.

"Yes, please!" calls Drew.

I dig out the four potatoes in foil and put them into the fire while Rachel roasts a rabbit on one of Robert's handless knives.

"What is that thing?" I ask, gesturing to it.

"It's a rabbit. I thought you were a farmer, Frances," mutters Alexx.

Rachel ignores her. "It's a bayonet. They used to go on the ends of guns." She frowns. "We used them in training once, instead of knives; the trainers said we needed to be ready for anything."

My eyes widen. So they do train! All those rumours were right!

Alexx's scowl deepens at my reaction.

"What's the matter with that?"

"You… You trained?" I breathe.

"Yeah," say Alexx and Rachel in unison. "So?"

"It's illegal!" I exclaim, throwing my hands up. "You have an unfair advantage!"

Alexx rolls her eyes and goes back to doing her nails or whatever and Rachel shrugs and turns the rabbit over. It's all I can do not to scream at them in frustration.

Drew appears and we eat in silence.

Suddenly, a face pops into my mind: Trevor, the boys from five. He had the same plan as me, I think: join the pairs from Four, Two and One and then betray them gradually.

Well, that _was_ my plan. The thing is, they seem to be betraying each other well enough already; we're only on day three and already there are only four of the original seven left.

Or original eight, if you count Trevor. Either way, we're dropping like flies and our main method of death is each other. I don't need to think about killing anyone; they're doing it for me.

The thing is, I'm not sure if I could kill one of these guys now, if it came down to it. I know it has really only been three days but I really think I would miss Rachel if she were dead. I might even miss Drew's failed flirting and Alexx's sulking.

And I can only just bear thinking about killing them.

But I think of our dwindling food supply, of the eyes in the grass and of Riana's shredded body.

Maybe I won't have to.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Just a note to let you know that there is a full tribute list on my profile if you need it, and to say that you can PM me any time with questions about the story, or just for a chat!**

**Also, I have a new SYOT open if you want to have a look.**

**Now, enjoy this instalment...**

* * *

**Chapter 4**

"Are we going to stop here?" Sarah asks as I look around. We are in another forest, but his time thicker, and full of pine trees. It has a lot more brambles than our last stop so is overall less picture perfect and worse for camping. However, it will be excellent for hiding and placing my traps. We would've stopped in the field on the previous island but the tributes from One, Two and Four were there, so we decided to move on. This island, however, looks to be deserted.

"Yes," I say. "We are stopping here, Sarah."

She lets out a sigh of relief and takes off her backpack. Personally, I didn't think it was such a difficult walk, but Sarah obviously thought otherwise. Not that she said anything; she wouldn't want me to slow down too much.

She's like that, my Sarah: she suffers in silence for the good of others and hopes for the best. That's why I love her.

It's also quite strange that she found the walk hard. It may sound ignorant, but Sarah looks fit. No, she _is _fit. A little walk like that should be easy for her.

Not that I would say anything in complaint about that, either.

Sarah knows me, so starts clearing space in the clearing for our little paraffin cooker and my traps. I start setting up in a few of the brambles around the edge of our selected spot.

It takes me about ten minutes to set one trap, so Sarah starts cooking something on the stove.

Within an hour, I've done six big traps and within tow I'm finished.

Dusk settles and Sarah snuggles up to me as we fall asleep in each other's arms.

* * *

For once, I'm not on watch, so I go to sleep. When I wake, it's still night. I'm not at all tired, so I take over from Drew to watch. There isn't a cloud in the sky, giving clear view to where the stars should be.

But they aren't there.

Instead, there is only blackness. A deep, dark blackness that is as fake as Alexx's hair colour. It sickens me.

At home in District Ten, I would go out star-gazing with my Dad when he wasn't too busy. He taught me how to find and name constellations, how to use a telescope, how to read the very essence of the stars. The fact that the sky I may die under doesn't have stars makes me want to cry.

Oh, how stupid do I sound? I could die tomorrow, but all I care about is whether or not the sky will have stars if I do!

I haven't been star-gazing in years anyway. I couldn't before the Dark Days; I was too young. Then during the Dark Days, there wasn't enough time, and Dad has been busy trying to scrape a living together for the past six years. And star-gazing without Dad is like a chicken without feathers: it works, but doesn't seem right.

Once, I tried going with Peter, but he just went on about how the stars science of the stars is so amazing and clever, and I got a headache.

But now, the one chance I could get before I die to star-gaze properly, and the stars aren't there. It's the saddest thing I ever saw.

So I don't look. I don't look and I'm not so sad.

Morning comes, but I don't wake the others. Not yet.

_I should kill them now._

What?!

_I could kill them while they are vulnerable. Yes._

Wait, no! NO!

The part that doesn't want to kill seems to be disconnected from the rest of me: a separate person that the rest of me just finds annoying.

_I am going to kill Alexx. I'm going to make her shirt match her hair._

The non-sadistic part runs over to the crazy part and shakes its shoulders.

_What was I thinking?!_

I'm not really sure.

A faint rustle distracts me from my internal battle and diverts my attention to a flash of long, brown hair, disappearing through the grass.

When I check, I find that three more unlabelled cans have gone.

And then the cannon fires.

* * *

A cannon fires, followed directly by Sarah's scream. I abandon the squirrel I am detangling from a snare and run to her aid.

I can't see her at our camp. The scream rings out again.

"Sarah!" I call. "Sarah, where are you?!"

I run around the perimeter of our encampment, calling her name until my voice is hoarse.

When at last I find her, she is kneeling over a body, sobbing. The body is caught in one of my lethal traps, but I don't care.

"Sarah…" I whisper, kneeling beside her. "You're ok. You scared me so much, Sarah!"

"It's Yevgeniya," she sniffs, pointing down at the skinny body I now recognise as the girl from Five. "We were going to ally with her, remember? She came looking for us. To ally. And now she's dead because of us!"

I sigh and put my arm around her, drawing her into me. She sniffles again.

"She was such a good friend," Sarah whispers into my chest. "She was so clever. I remember one time she told me about what her escort was wearing and how fashionable it was. She just knew so much about the Capitol; her family had links."

"Go back to camp, Sarah. I'll re-set this trap." I sigh. "We can't do anything about Yevgeniya now."

Sarah nods and fakes a smile, making my heart chip a little in the process. "Yeah," she whispers. "We're alive, it's ok."

I set up the trap again and lay Yevgeniya out next to it. Just as I am about to go, some artist's instinct in me takes over and starts to organise her hair and the brambles around it so it looks like the ground is beginning to swallow her up. Sarah comes over and watches for a few minutes as I finish off.

I turn to see silent tears streaming down her cheeks as when I am finished, and it takes me by surprise; I didn't mean to make her cry.

Her mouth is twisted into a grim line like it isn't quite right but she won't say anything.

"She was a fashion lover." I say. "And she cared about her appearance, so I made her into a work of art."

Sarah doesn't look at me – I'm not sure she even heard me – and just walks away, fiddling with a strand of her blonde hair.

And where my heart chipped before, a crack appears.

* * *

Alexx wakes up around noon and demands that we kill someone. Everyone else is already awake: Drew is hunting, Rachel is tending to the fire and I am looking through the grass at random intervals for the owner of those blasted eyes.

Then Alexx starts pacing and talking to herself about tactics. Rachel joins the discussion just as Drew comes back (Empty handed) and asks me what I'm looking for. I somehow don't want to tell him about the eyes so make some nonsense up about rats. He seems to take it, but I stop looking even so.

Something about those eyes has unnerved me and left me anxious. Nervous energy is puring out of me in vast quantities like sweat.

_I have to _do_ something!_

My hands start to fiddle with our supplies - counting it all out, sorting everything by colour, sorting it alphabetically by contents...

Then I start to look for more to encorporate into my sort, grabbing the bag with my stuff from the cornucopia in, which I still haven't properly sorted out since I got it.

At the bottom lie two sachets of the red poison which killed Talor of Three. (Or was it Alek? It was one of the siblings.) On top of them is a jar of chloroform with a fabric cover. That is going to be very handy, though I have no idea how or when.

Next to the chloroform is a tin of dried fruit - the first thing I choose to actually take out of the bag (I felt the other two would be better as secret weapons).

Finally, in a side pocket, I find the tin with a leak. said leak is now about the size of a... Well, a mouse could probably fit through it. I swear it used to be smaller, though.

But how would it grow anyway?

And, more importantly, what is even in the tin?

I try to pull the top off, and fail. It must be a screw lid, I think, so I try unscrewing it.

Nope.

I try pushing and pulling and twisting it everywhichway.

Despite all this, though, nothing works. The tin will not open.

I grab a bayonet from the floor and try to lever the tin open, but instead get a vicious glare from Alexx for damaging her weapon.

Pulling won't work and I've pushed every corner of the thing. It won't lever open and it isn't a screw top.

So how do I open it?!

I throw it down in frustration and the lid pops open as the tin tips to one side, spilling the contents all over my foot.

I scream and scream.

The pot contains a very strong acid.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Hello, all! Another chapter for you!**

**And just a reminder that you can review, even if you are a guest to the site.**

**In fact, this is a reminder to review, whether you ahve an account or not, at l****east to tell me what I'm doing wrong that is making you not want to review!**

**Thank you, and enjoy the chapter! :D**

* * *

**Chapter 5**

I come to the Gamemakers' centre tired. Pia gets very focused during the Games, so there isn't much space for me in her life. It worries me. She goes through too much for this job.

The afternoon shift starts in ten minutes, and it can be guaranteed that my co-workers will not stop early, so I have a few minutes to wait.

"Hey!" The drawling voice comes from the seat beside the doorway. "I don't think I introduced myself properly last time we met. I'm Jezzebelle Tylor."

I meet the gaze of the Head Gamemaker's daughter and tell her that I am Adrastus. She giggles and smiles sweetly at me. "Yeah," she simpers. "I've heard of you."

"You have?" I ask, surprised.  
"Well, no, but it seemed like a good thing to say." She winks.

"Oh."

"So..." She flutters her extraordinarily long eyelashes at me and looks down. "What are you doing... Tomorrow?

"I'm, um, here in the morning. Then I, um, have the, um, afternoon off." I cringe inwardly at my stuttering. Why can't I just relax?! "Why did you, um, ask?"

"Well, I was wondering if you could come to my house."

"What?!"

"To help with some of my homework. Coursework. From my apprenticeship course."

"Um, ok. What's it about?"

"Oh, stuff. I can't remember." She flashes a sheepish grin and glances down at her feet again. "But can you come?"

"I guess..."

"Oh, thanks! That is so nice of you!"

I can't object because the new shifts starts.

* * *

I drop the pot of acid very, very fast, my fingers still screaming out for relief from that stupid Gamemaker trick. The pot lands on its side and empties its contents onto the grass, killing all that stands in its path. Rachel and Alexx look up from their conversation. Alexx frowns and goes back to pacing, but Rachel runs over.

"What's the-" she starts.

"Watch out for the acid puddle!" I cry, and she manages to just step over it.

"Acid puddle?!" she asks, staring at the ground.

"Yeah, I got a tin of acid at the Cornucopia."

"Why?!"

"I just picked it up."

"You strange girl." Rachel shakes her head and turns away, eyebrows raised in disbelief. "I'll warn the others."

"Wait, no," I say, "don't tell them, just leave it."

She gives me another funny look before shrugging and walking back to Alexx and Drew. She doesn't mention the acid, but I bet those two heard us.

The rest of the day is spent gathering up our stuff and moving on to stop us from drowning tomorrow.

It is well into the night by the time we reach a far enough away island - isle seven. It is a maze of dead trees, all piled up, burnt or hacked at. The sight is actually quite chilling, and I would ask to move on, but I don't think I can walk another step.

Alexx is probably the least tired, but Drew is in an arrogant mood (Is he ever in a non-arrogant mood?) so he takes watch instead. I'm not sure I'll sleep easily anyway.  
When I wake, it is still dark and Alexx is on watch with Drew. I go back to sleep and try to forget what they were doing.

Dawn comes, waking me again, this time from a nightmare. I can't remember it, only that I had one. Part of me thinks it was induced by this creepy island. The way it looks like the whole thing was just abandoned... I know it can't have been, but it still gives me the creeps.

Reason says I'm being stupid, that everything I see is was made for the entertainment of the Capitol and as a place for my death to take place, but another part of me is still creeped by the those eyes and how they probably followed me here. Which is also illogical.

_They're just eyes for goodness' sake!_

So why can't I get them out of my head?

* * *

I lean over and shake Sarah to wake her. Today we will eat here, then move on. She grins up at me and pecks me on the cheek. I draw her close and we kiss for a few seconds before she breaks off, saying we need a fire to cook on. I start selecting some food while she goes to gather more firewood.

We don't have much left, actually. I could've sworn we had more than this yesterday! Maybe I just haven't been paying attention.

Suddenly, I hear a shriek ringing out through the air. It is definitely Sarah. I leap to my feet and run in the direction of the noise.

"Sarah!" I scream at the top of my lungs. "Sarah, where are you?"

"Help!" she screams. "There's a snake! Help!"

"Sarah!" I know she's terrified of snakes. One time back home, we were out in the woods and she saw a snake. I found her back in her house - she had run all the way home. I'd killed it and gone to find her and she asked me out. That was how we met, actually.  
She screams again, louder. "Andrew! Your trap! Help!"

No, she can't be caught in one of my traps, can she? No. I run faster, ignoring the bramble and vines that get in my way.

When I finally find her after what seems like hours, Sarah is hanging upside down in one of my net traps, sobbing and calling out for me to help her.

"Andrew..." she mumbles. "Andrew, the snake... It bit..."

I pull out my small knife and start sawing at the rope to release her. She falls into my arms, gasping. I pull her to me.

"Sarah..."

"Tell Dad I love him. Tell him I'll miss him. And tell Andrew... Tell him I love him more than anything and that we should never have been put into this awful situation. Tell him he means so much to me, and he has to win... Make him win. Make him go home, so I don't die in vain."

"Sarah, I'm here. I'm going to get you home, I promise. Just hang on, we'll make it."  
"We won't. Not us, but you can, Andrew. I know you're destined to win, and your siblings need you... Your whole family needs you." She chokes back a sob. "Oh, Andrew, it hurts. It hurts, Andrew."

"The pain will go away. I'll make it go away. We can do this, Sarah. Come on, we can do this together. Look at me, keep your eyes open, and we can do this. Trust me."

"I do trust you." The words are no more than mumbles, whispers so quiet I can barely hear them. Hot, wet tears run down my cheeks and mix with her's. But they taint my vision, so I blink them away and focus on Sarah's face.

"Stay with me, Sarah, please. Please."

She does not answer.

She does not answer because she is dead.

Sobs wrack my body, yanking themselves from my chest and ripping into the air. I think of her gorgeous eyes staring into me with such fearlessness when she told me she loved for the first time. I think of how my seven little brothers and sisters got on with her so well, hating when she had to go home almost as much as me. I think of the little things that made her: her hair falling on her back, her positive attitude, her fear of disease, her blind trust in everyone. I think of how much I wanted her - needed her - to live. Of how much I loved her.

And I curl up and cry.

One of my sisters is bullied at school. Every night, I hear her sobbing her heart out in the bed next to mine. I am crying harder than she ever has.

My younger brother gets terrifying nightmares. He cries out and screams loud enough to wake the dead in his sleep. I am screaming louder than that (But it isn't waking the dead, no matter how much I want it to).

The oldest girl in our family, my sister Aida, is abused at work. She carves scratches into herself to make herself less appealing to her boss. The scratches I have in my heart now are far more painful than her scratches, and will last longer than any injuries she has ever given herself before.

My oldest brother was lost to the Games just two years ago. His twin screams awful things about the Capitol every time he thinks of him, so loud even my mother can't shut him up. I am yelling now, and I am yelling worse things, and louder.

Meghan, another sister of mine, lost all her hair in a fight with another girl at school a few months ago. It still hasn't recovered. I pull so much hair out to try and counter the pain in my chest, I don't think it will ever grow back.

Another of my four sisters believes deeply that there is a place where evil people burn for all eternity after they die. I think I would rather go through that than what I'm going through now.

Nothing can make anything better again. Except Sarah.

My mother lost her first husband - my father - to the Capitol during the Dark Days. She won't say anything about him except that my step-father - my siblings' father - only just filled the whole he left behind. Back when she said it, I was only seven, and I didn't understand her.

Now I do.

Well, I understand how she felt when her husband was blown up. I'm surprised she's still here, actually. Then again, she was always a survivor.

I think of Sarah's words - the ones she said just before she died. She told me to make myself win so she didn't die in vain. Only now do the words' meanings strike home; her plan was the same as mine. She intended to die for me. Not this soon, but that was her plan.

She wanted me to win.

I have to now.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

"There's no one here to kill. We need to move." For once, Drew is right; today is day six and we are on isle seven, so this place will become no more than water by tomorrow.

"Ok," I say. "Let's go."

Alexx grins (At the thought of killing?) and starts running about, shoving anything and everything into her rucksack. It doesn't take long.

We set off across he bridge to the eighth isle made up of sharp, spiky rocks with waterfalls running between them. The water runs straight from the centre of the isle to the outside and right off the edge which I'm sure looks very dramatic on camera. They don't really have waterfalls in District Ten.

The next isle along from that is a wheat field, but I am so sick of fields that I simply walk straight through it without a glance back, straight onto the next island, which is a hot, humid forest. The island itself is only about five metres in diameter, but very tightly packed with trees. There is, however, a neat little clearing in the centre, perfect for a camp. So that's where we set up.

It is now around noon, and we've walked quite a long way so everyone is hungry. I hand around some dried fruit, followed by a couple of cans. We now only have three cans, which is strange because we started with twenty and have only eaten a few. I can find no other food apart from a few slices of rabbit (Which are rapidly going off - we should eat them tonight) and those sachets of poison.

That sadistic part of my mind imagines combining the two and creating a totally lethal meal. I could do that... I _should_ do that...

_Boom!_

The cannon startles me and stops the conversation between Rachel and Drew about the best way to decapitate a twelve-year-old (Thankfully; it was becoming rather disconcerting, especially when Alexx added her own opinions and methods).

"Who was that?" asks Rachel.

"Who cares?" retaliates Drew.

"Me," snaps Alexx. "Because it wasn't me who killed them."

"You don't say," mutters Drew.

"Drew," Rachel warns. "It's not funny. We haven't killed anyone since day one except those in our own alliance. Quite honestly, we aren't doing much. Mainly because you're in charge, may I add?"

"No," Drew snarls. "You may not." Then, in a calmer tone: "Or would you rather lead the group?"

"Ok," Rachel snaps. "I will."

"I bet you can't do it as well as me," Drew taunts.

"Even Frances would do it better than you," Rachel snaps.

This stops him. He glares at Rachel and she glares back.

"Stop it," I say quickly, trying to break the tension between them. "Stop it, both of you. We're running out of food, so we need to hunt tomorrow, and not just for humans."

"Why not now?"

"Um... Well, I suppose we could hunt now."

"Awesome, let's go."

Alexx leaps up and runs straight off into the woods, Drew hot on her heels. Rachl says she'll watch the camp, leaving me to go off alone.

Before long, I reach the bridge leading the the next isle, and only just stifle a scream. I'm not normally squeamish, but this... It's only just recognisable as the body of Simon He, the boy from Twelve. His short, black hair has been totally taken off, along with most of his scalp. He has scratches and scrapes all over his body, most of them deep and very painful-looking. I throw up over the side of the island and don't dare look any closer at the corpse. I think Riana's body probably looked like this when she died, though I never saw it. It was probably done by the same person.

I go through the remaining tributes in my head: Alexx, Rachel, Drew, me... I don't really know, actually; I haven't been keeping track of the skies. Well, both from Five and Six are dead, as is the girl from Seven as of yesterday. I think her partner is still alive, as is the girl from Eight... I think. The boy from my district is still around, and maybe one more? Maybe not.

Anyway, if the same person did Riana and Simon, it certainly wasn't Tad as we originally thought. Nor was it Drew, Rachel or Alexx nor the boy from Seven from what I saw of him. So it could've been Robert from my district or the brunette from Eight. Or maybe someone else who I can't think of.

Quite honestly, I don't remember much about the girl from Eight apart from the fact that she was a brunette. She could be the person behind these deaths for all I know. And as for Robert of Ten... I seriously don't remember him, either. My time in the Capitol is all a blur to me now, and I can barely remember what my apartment looked like, let alone the strengths, weaknesses and killing habits of my district partner.

And then I have the mystery of the eyes in the grass. Who could that have been? Are they still alive now? Again, that couldn't have been Alexx, Rachel or Drew, and I seem to remember the boy from Seven (Andrew, yes?) being more arty than cunning. So, again, it comes down to Robert or Eight. Or someone who I forgot about. Or someone who is already dead.

This whole attempted mystery-solving is giving me a headache.

And, anyway, I should be hunting.

I cross the bridge to the eleventh isle - another waterfall. I will not find anything to hunt here, but I could gather water.

Well, if I had something to gather it with.

I only just stay on the rocks as I cross the isle, thanking the Gamemakers for my grippy shoes.

The next - and final - isle is tiny, maybe one metre in diameter. However, the structures it has on it are enough to totally baffle me.

It is a perfect miniature replica of the Capitol. It still towers over my head, but not quite as much. I can't go into the buildings (The doors are too small) and the streets can only fit a couple of people side-by-side rather than twenty, but they are still grand and splendorous and the city still sparkles and shines in the glaring sun.

But the whole place is empty, so I can't hunt.

I hope the others did more than me.

* * *

The Tyler household is tall, grand and very imposing. The doorbell echoes through empty corridors for minutes after I ring it.

Jezzebelle opens the door wearing a shimmering silk night-gown and not much else. Her pink and blue hair falls on her shoulders in a tangled mess, but it somehow looks stunning and suits her perfectly.

"Adrastus!" she squeals, leaning forward and throwing her arms around me so tightly I think I am about to suffocate.

"Oh, hello, Jezzebelle," I gasp.

"Call me Jezz!" She beams. "Now, do come in!"

I follow her down the hallway and up a flight of stairs as she gives me earache.

"... normally here alone, you see. Mum advises people 24/7 and Dad is constantly a the Centre this half of the year, so my brothers are meant to look after me, except Marius is out down the back alleys getting hooked up most nights and Nyall is on a date over at his new girlfriend's house all day, so I just get left here..."

"Um, Miss Tyler?" I say, trying to get her to shut up for a second and give my ear a rest.

"Adrastus, call me Jezz, please!"

"Oh, um... Jezz." The name feels strange on my tongue. "I thought I was here to help you with homework."

"What?" She stares at me blankly. "But I don't do homework. Besides, my tutor never sets it."

"But you said you were on an appren-"

"Oh, that! Yes, I quit that last week."

"But you asked me yester-"

"Never mind that. You're here now." She lowers her voice and leans in close, her violet eyes shining. "Here, I want to show you something."

She disappears down the hallway and into a room. I follow at a distance.

"What is it?" I look around the room, but I can't see Jezzebelle anywhere. "Jezzebelle? Miss Tyler?" Where are you?"

Her voice floats faintly through another door. "I'm in here, give me a second! And call me Jezz!"

There are sounds of doors swinging open and bolts sliding into place, followed by a few clicks and Jezzebelle's cry of, "ok, come in!"

I cautiously step towards the door and place my fingers on the handle.

"Hurry up!"

I push the door open.

And, I swear, I almost faint. It is the most shocking and unexpected thing that has ever happened to me.

Jezzebelle is standing in the centre of a small, hexagonal closet with full-length mirrors surround her. Her hair is up in a bun, and she has removed the night-gown, replacing it with...

Nothing.

She is wearing only her underwear and standing in such a way that I can see every inch of her body in the mirrors.

And she just beams at me.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

I gulp.

"You know I'm engaged, don't you?" I gasp.

"Yes..." she coos. "But that's not what I meant by the gesture. I just wanted to show you my body art."

Is it awful that I didn't even notice her sparkly blue tattoos?

Yes, probably.

I step back into the main room and grab some clothes off the floor.

"Put them on!" I demand, throwing them at her. "Now."

"Don't you like my tattoos?"

"No. Goodbye, Miss Tyler."

I ignore her cries as I sprint out of the house. I am a married man next week. I have a beautiful fiancé who means the world to me and cares for me I shouldn't even be here! Especially not with my boss's - Naked! - daughter. I am happy with my wife-to-be.

Or am I?

If I'm so in love with Pia, why was I a bit disappointed when Jezzebelle said she just wanted to show me her tattoos?

* * *

As I cross the bridge from the twelfth to the eleventh isle, I think about my alliance. It's falling apart, really. We aren't doing much at all and what I thought would be a position of advantage - up with the most viscous of tributes, able to kill the most powerful with a deft addition to the soup - has turned out to be useless, not least of all because I can't find it in me to kill my allies. My whole plan is going to rot and ruin.

I need to break away from the group, maybe kill them from afar. I could ally with whoever killed Simon and Riana and help them pick off more tributes. Or I could just grab the food and leave one day. We only just have enough food for the four of us. If I left with everything except the poison...

It would work. I could take them all down easily, defeating the greatest opposition in the Games.

But then I think of the people themselves: Rachel, with her friendly attitude and firm decision not to flirt; Alexx, with her angry and excited attitude and constant - familiar to me now - arguments; and Drew, with his arrogant personality and total inability to listen to anybody but himself... Ok, so Drew is actually quite annoying to the point I could probably kill him, and Alexx gets on my nerves quite a lot - I wouldn't miss her that much... But Rachel? Rachel, I couldn't kill. No way.

In the short time I have been on the twelfth isle, the eleventh isle has become harder to stand up on. My boots can no longer quite grip onto the rock any more, and my feet are starting to suddenly disappear from underneath me, leaving me grasping at the rocks.

_I'm going to fall!_

A drop from this height would surely kill me.

_I'm going to die!_

I scream an scream for someone - anyone - to come and help me. Rachel is only a few metres away in that forest place, so surely she can come?

The bushes rustle slightly as someone comes out to help me. They grab me under my arms and pull me out and onto the bridge where it is much easier to stand.

"Shh," he says, pulling me across to the bushes on the forest isle. "Don't make a sound; there's a camp of killers just through there."

I blink at him.

"Robert?!" I whisper, staring at my district partner. "Robert, I know who's though there. I was calling for them."

He stares at me like I'm crazy.

"Robert, what are you doing here?"

"I'm a tribute, remember? I was reaped with you. Or don't you remember that, either?"

"Yes, I know you're a tribute. That wasn't what I meant." A sudden thought occurs to me. "Are you the one stealing our food?"

"Our?"

"I'm with them, Robert." I gesture to the bushes in the direction of our camp. "And our food keeps disappearing. Was it you?"

"No." He is a terrible liar and knows it. " Well, maybe a bit. But only a can or two."

He ducks as my hand whistles over his head. "What was that for?!" he cries.

"Stealing my food."

I lean forward to attack again, but stop when I feel his hand on my wrists. We glare at one another for a short while before there is a crashing sound from the direction of the forest. Robert scampers off silently, leaving me alone with my razor-fan.

Alexx appears.

"I told you she would be here, Rachel!" she calls over her shoulder. Then, to me: "Come on, Frances. Drew and I caught a few things." She looks down at my hands, empty but for my weapon. "Which is better than you did, I see."

I follow her back to the camp, where Drew and Rachel are.

The rest of the evening goes in a blur, and, before I know it, I'm asleep.

Eyes feature heavily in my dreams. First, I am back home, stargazing with dad. Just as he is about to teach me a story about Orion, I notice that it isn't him there, it's Peter and he has no eyes, just huge gaping black holes where his eyes should be.

After that, I wake up for a few seconds, wipe the tears from my eyes and go back to sleep.

In the second dream, I am alone in a forest - no, a field of tall grass, which is parting flattening around me, but still stands very tall about half a metre from me in every direction. That distance becomes smaller and pairs of blinking eyes appear from the darkness that has fallen. I recognise some eyes - my parents and siblings', Alexx's, Drew's, Rachel's - but not others. The eyes move closer and closer, faster and faster, in time with my breathing.

And then I wake. This time, I am awake for longer, trying to rid those images from my mind and sleep in peace. When I do finally slip out of conciousness again, the sleep is shallow it is a while before I finally settle into a deep, dreamless sleep.

I don't know how long I get before the dreams start again.

And this one is probably the worst yet.

It starts with my sister Olivia, telling me about Caesar Flickerman, but then she turns into Aimee, giving me a lecture on not wasting my time. I lean in close to her face and her pupils grow into huge pits, pulling me in. I fall, and fall, and fall, Aimee's lecture still echoing in my ears.

When I finally land, I'm back in the field from the second dream, but this time ominous black clouds swarm overhead, threatening loud noises and cold wetness and flashes of light that hurt my eyes. The grass circle is closing in again, the eyes merging into one growing pair of eyes until there is nothing in the world except me and the eyes.

All of a sudden, I recognise them as eyes I have never really met and haven't seen since training. Their owner's name comes back to me in a flash, along with her appearance and the one thing she ever said to me.

Her name is Emily Ray of District Nine. She has long brown hair and blue eyes. And her voice will echo in my ears forever: _"Frances, is it? Remember me in the arena."_

I remember her, and she isn't dead yet.

When I wake, the sun is high in the sky and I'm very hungry. My eyes take a lot of willpower to open and my body feels almost rusty, like it needs a bit of oil. I let out a groan.

"Oh," Drew says, "So the sleeping beauty is awake. How nice of you to grace us with you consciousness, Frances."

I ignore him. "What day is it?"

"Day eight. You slept through day seven, but nothing much happened, anyway, possibly because Alexx did the same. Rachel appears to be pulling a similar stunt now."

The muscles in my back whine at me like little children as I get up and make ay over to my bag, where I should have some food. Sure enough, there's one bread roll left, along with a few slices of cooked meat. It wolf it down. All of it.

"Where's Alexx?" I ask through a mouthful of bread.

"Hunting." Drew glances at me sceptically. "Good job too, since you seem to have eaten all the food we had left."

"Oh, sorry," I say, but I'm not.

A few minutes of silence pass as I remember I remember what happened two days ago and gradually get my various joints working. Drew appears to be practicing methods of murdering with his net. Obviously, he says he does it perfectly every time. I'm really not sure why he's practicing, then.

A cannon shatters the silence, ringing out across the arena. Drew instantly drops his net and runs off in a random direction. I do the same, but more calmly and strategically.

After a few seconds, Drew runs straight into me.

"Get out of my way, idiot!" he snarls, running on with me following.

Strangely, we arrive at the scene of the death straight away, this time. Red dreadlocks and blood stains scatter the grass and leaves around Alexx's body, dying the ground a deep crimson. Someone s drawn red patterns all over her body in a thick substance which is only just drying. Drew stands stock still and stares.

Then, suddenly, he spots Alexx's attacker - Robert from Ten. Drew's features twist into a cruel grimace and he grabs Robert's head between his hands and twists before Robert can so much as blink. Drew turns to me as the cannon goes off and leans forward, no doubt to do the same to me. I scream and duck backwards, running through the forest with him hot on my heels.

I reach the bridge leading to the eleventh isle and sprint across it. Drew follows, both of us slipping on the rocks in our desperation. I sprint on towards the twelfth isle, hoping he doesn't follow.

I hide among the buildings of the Capitol until it grows dark. The anthem plays and Alexx's glaring face appears. I had no idea she had the surname Odom. Her unforgettable dreadlocks are followed Robert's comparably boring blonde locks. His stormy grey eyes seem to bore into my soul, asking me why I didn't avenge his death, or even try to stop it.

And I look away because I don't know the answer to that question.


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: I just got really excited because I have this chapter to publish and I actually remembered! :D**

**So... Yeah. We are now in the second half of this story... Ooh, exciting!**

* * *

**Chapter 8**

Sleep won't come. Not even after a whole night of no sleep and the exhaustion of running across so many islands.

Well, three, but I was going pretty fast.

I can't sleep because every time I close my eyes, I see Alexx's-patterned body and Robert's lifeless eyes... And Tad's battered corpse and Riana's desperate expression just before she died and the pair from Three - the sister's fingers and lips, stained poison and the brother's gaping chest wound. I see the field around the Cornucopia, littered with bodies and blood and horror and death. Oh, so much death! I groan at the thought of it and ing my knees to my chest. A single tar traces down my cheek and drips onto my shirt; a whimper escapes my throat.

And, finally, pure fatigue drives me to sleep. A shallow, nightmare-ridden sleep, but sleep all the same.

* * *

Golden rows of wheat surround me. I feel like they are choking the life out of me, tightening around my body like a noose around my neck. I can feel the water lapping over my feet, and I think of Sarah.

Tears roll further down my cheeks as I envision her smiling after we first kissed. My heart throbs to know that I'm not there, I'm here. That I'll never go back to that moment.

Or will I? I can be with Sarah forever this way, I know I can. We can have peace.

The water starts to gather around my knees, rising up to my waist within a minute. Icy chills shoot up and down my legs and a shiver runs the length of my spine. Water reaches the bottom of my rib cage and I try to ignore it. The searing cold creeps to my shoulders.

I duck my head under the water and feel the floor disappear from under my feet. The heavy liquid doesn't feel old anymore as it pours down my throat. I try to suppress the instinct to cough, instead breathing deeply, but my lungs protest very loudly, screaming out for air.

I forget all pain and step into Sarah's arms.

* * *

I wake to the sound of a cannon and the sight of an unfamiliar face. I scramble back.

"Are you ok?" she asks. "I thought you were dead."

"Who are you?" I gasp.

"Julie Sarasua, District Eight female tribute." She beams, holding out a hand.

"Oh." She reminds me of Olivia, so I guess I expected that to be her name. From her straight brown hair to how she talks - all in a rush like I need to know this information _right now_ - to how she holds herself, she is the amazingly like my sister. She raises her eyebrows like she expected me to say more. _Liv does that..._

"I'm Frances Gray," I say. "District Ten's female tribute."

She nods. "Yeah, I thought ou were from Ten. Had that look about you, y'know?" _No._ I nod. "Anyway, you look like you need an ally. What would you've done if I was a Career, eh? Nothing: you were asleep, and I would've killed you."

"A career?"

"A tribute from One, Two or Four. It's a nickname we have in Eight because they train all their lives. Well, we think they do, anyway. I mean, have you seen some of them? retty powerful. You don't get tht powerful rom fishing or working in factories, and I should know!"

"You fish?"

"No, I work in a factory! From dawn until dusk every day except some Sundays, sometimes, but even then, most people go to work. Y'know, because most can't afford to spend a day doing nothing, especially not now. Did you know that Eight had a major part in the rebellion? We were almost the leaders."

"Really?"

"Yes, very much so. We did the most to fight the Capitol, too, and..." She speaks ten to the dozen and I eventually tune her out, just enjoying the company and eventually saying "really?" and "yes?" and other such things every so often.

Until she says something that really wakes me up: "So, how many people have you killed so far?"

The question takes me totally off guard. "What?"

"You were with the Careers, right?"

It takes me a second to figure out who 'the careers' are before I nod.

"Yeah," she says. "So how many people have you killed?"

"Me, personally?"

"Yes, you! That's what I just said!"

"Well... None." I'm not sure how to feel about that answer. Part of me feels like it's a bad thing, that I've been wasting my time, whereas another part is sort of proud that I'm innocent and another part is just confused. My _alliance_ has killed many - at least half of the tributes, I would say - but _I_ haven't done any of that. "Yeah. I haven't killed anyone."

Julie looks down. "Me neither. But I'm not sure I want to."

Deep within me, I realise that I don't want to, either. I don't really want to take someone's life. I didn't ask to be here. In fact, I can think of a million places I'd rather be than here. No, a hundred million.

We sit together in silence for a little while before Julie asks if I have any food.

I grin and nod. My sister Olivia is so, so like this girl, more so every minute I spend with her.

Luckily, I grabbed my rucksack before I went looking for Alexx, so I actually have all the supplies that used to belong to my former alliance. I fish out a can and hand it to Julie, the metal scraping my burnt finger and reminding me of the last time I opened something from this bag. Julie shovels the food down her throat, reminding my stomach to complain. I grab my own can and copy Julie.

"Thank you so much," she says as she finishes. "Robert gave me stolen food before. I'd just run out and we were planning to meet up today, but... Well, you saw. We were planning an attack on the Careers, too."

"I'm still up for that."

"What?"

"I'll help you attack the Careers. They know and trust me, and I have some poison in my bag which is just begging to be used." The words are just flowing out of me, I can't stop them.

"You would do that? Even after they were your allies?"

"Only the boy from Four. The girl from Two is coming with us."

She frowns, but then shrugs. "Ok, whatever. So... Should you go back to them now?"

I didn't think of that. "I guess I should go back today... Yeah, now would be best."

"Excellent. So you poison the boy and bring the girl back with you. Go, I'll be here when you get back."

"Ok. I'll see you tomorrow or something."

"See you tomorrow!"

As I grab my pack and leave, it occurs to me how strange this is. I have never met Julie before, and now we're plotting against my former alliance together! Can she even be trusted? She said she was relying on Robert for supplies, so now he needs me, I guess. It would be all to easy for me to leave her to starve, or to lead Drew and Rachel to her.

I don't know what to do at all, so I just keep walking.

I reach the camp at dusk, just as Capitol's anthem starts playing. Drew and Rachel don't look at me as I sit down next to the fire, just keep staring at the faces.

One dead today - the boy from Seven. He was called Andrew. I remember him and his partner in training - they were a couple.

I go on watch while Rachel and Drew sleep. Actually, I'm rather surprised that they're trusting me this easily after two days of me just disappearing., but I'm not one to argue. Plus, Drew's in charge, so anything could happen.

The shift is spent the usual way - sorting - but not with the usual things.

Rachel and Drew had no food and hunting is hard in the limited space, so they were basically starving to death. No doubt they'll eat this fast, then.

I sort breakfast into three piles, one with with poison mixed in, the others clean. The liquid doesn't stain food and goes clear in water, possibly because it was designed for this very purpose.

Morning comes all too fast, with Drew out of his tent an hour after dawn, demanding food. I hand him the water and try not to look as his body falls on my feet.

_He was going to kill me anyway, you just saved your life._ Yeah, I'll just keep telling myself that, and hope it's actually true.

But I'm fooling no one.

* * *

I'm getting married to Pia in two days. It's coming so quickly!

We're doing final preparations now, checking cake orders and dresses and guests and all of that. Pia is getting stressed and excited and nervous and I'm just plain tired. Everything is so tiring! At work, we're down to the final four and the centre is in chaos; at home, the house is filled with nervous energy and wedding prep; and in my head, I'm trying to stop thinking about Jezzebelle.

She hasn't been to the Gamemaking centre for six days now, but I seem to be the only person who has noticed. I haven't seen her in ages - since the incident with the tattoos, the guilt from which still sits in my stomach like a lump of thick dough.

Pia doesn't know about it, and I don't plan on telling her. In fact, no one knows what happened except me and Jezzebelle.

It's our secret.


End file.
